


I don't mind the cold

by otakuashels



Series: Bits and Bobbles of Thedas [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Cute, Established Relationship, F/M, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3740296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otakuashels/pseuds/otakuashels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The cold isn't always that bad, and even if it is, there are a few ways to remedy it.<br/>( I am taking one shot requests)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I don't mind the cold

Stumbling back, the female warden impinged upon the fallen body of a dark spawn troll. The blood upon her body was slick against the blood on the carcass. Screeches of dark spawn creatures mixed with the shouts of her companions. On her right she watched as Morrigan’s womanly form shifted into something much more unpleasant. A hairy spider, large with venomous fangs took her place scrambling after one of their foes. Not far from her Zevran swung two blades, covered in flames from Morrigan’s flaming weapons spell, flesh and blood sizzling as they hit their target.

Fighting at his side she heard the yell of her team’s berserker Orghen crushing bone and splitting flesh with mighty cries. Both of their armors glittered with a spell of protection, which meant Wynne was still standing somewhere. It was a roar of pain that brought her out of her temporary stun. Moving forward she skirted about fallen bodies, the ground soggy with blood and mutilated flesh. The roar sounded again, it was another troll, the screams a result of being struck by a broad sword.

“Alistair!” she gasped as a large fist nearly missed the other grey warden. Clutching her twin blades in a tight fists she charged forward arching her hands above her head only to bring them down with a yell, ignoring the warm spray of blood across her face as the flesh split. The ear splitting roar announced that she had met her target. It was shadow on the ground that alerted her of Zevran’s leaping body, the noise falling silent as the Antivan pierced his skull. It was silence that fell over the battle churned ground, the last darkspawn hitting the ground with a thud.

“Warden!” Wynne jogged down the hill, stumbling lightly towards. “Dear!”

“Wynne do be careful!” the last female Warden called, slightly panicked. Every time the elder women took any sort of stumble, no matter the cause any time the mage showed signs of falter she swore she felt her own heart stutter. Since Wynne had collapsed on the hillside and revealed to her, her current living, or lack thereof, situation she had been sick with worry. “Wynne I am alright, just a couple of bumps and bruises.” Steadying herself on her feet she looked around at her companions. Leilanna had come up behind Morrigan and Sten as they walked her way, the bard as always was chattering adamantly at any of those near her.

It was a bark that drew her attention downwards. “Ah, you did well” she smiled scratching the scruff of the Mabari. “But your covered in blood and guck again…that means without a doubt Wynne is going to be coming after you with salts and soaps” she laughed at the whine that the canine gave. “Oh don’t pout at me, she is right you know. Sometimes you do come back from battles smelling most foul”

Turning her attention to the three males that were close to her left hip she observed Zevran and Oghren were arguing, no doubt over the amount of dark-spawn they had each killed as Alistair just rolled his eyes, following behind him. Some time ago, the dwarf and the elf had begun to tally up how many of the creatures they had individually killed. Turning she smiled at the elderly healer as Wynne reached her. “Don’t worry about me Wynne, it’s just a few bumps and bruises, check the others” with relief she sighed as the healer headed her words. Her eyes caught that of Alistair’s who beamed at her in reply. She was glad that this sudden surprise attack had been less invasive and dangerous than the one they had ran into a couple of weeks ago. Small dragons might as well be even more of a menace than their larger counterparts. They had been attacked by the dragon-lings only relying on the two senses of the Wardens to alert them of the group of darkspawn that chased the sounds of battle.

Looking over her other grey warden companion she was reminded of this. Bandages that had once been clean, now covered in the blood of fallen dark-spawn, peeked out as the large man pulled his glove off. The two dragons they had run into were old enough to breathe flames and one of them, sneaky blighter, had been quick enough to catch his arm. She shuddered at the chill that climbed her spine, she could still smell, still see the burned flesh that had come off of him as a patch of his skin had melted against the metal. Once again, thank the Maker for Wynne’s healing properties. Coming back to the present she found herself presented with her entire group before her, staring and waiting.

“You alright there Missy? Might as well have been off in the fade for how well you were paying attention” Oghren grunted.

“Ah, I’m fine” she nodded quickly giving them a smile. “Just ready to set up camp is all” she sighed, laughing as her own expression was mirrored. Mindless chatter filtered through the group as they picked their way over darkspawn bodies and made their way back to camp.

“You sure you’re alright?” the voice, thick with concern was a heavy timbre that she would recognize anywhere.

“Yes, Alistair, It is like I said, I am just tired” she smiled turning to look up at the man.

That was four hours ago, the camp being established was quiet, muffled sleep noises were barley heard above the talkative speech of the fire. Standing guard, diligent, strong and shivering were Fereldans last two known Grey Wardens.

"It is so cold" Agatha groaned as she paced back and forth, chaffing her hands together in effort to warm them. Her single response was a grunt from the bastard prince standing stock still, tremors hidden beneath all the steel armor that encased a tough physique. The normal chattering mouth sealed tightly by pressed lips that hid clenched teeth.  
'Armor is good in all cases with the exception of extreme interactions with the elements.' Alistair's thoughts laden with sarcasm. 'I attract lightening like fleas to a dog, Cold freezes me faster, Water nearly drowns me, wind makes me whistle and agh MAKER do not get me started on the complications with fire.'

"Alistair?" voice and wide eyes brimming with question broke him from his revere.

"Mn yes?" he turned to focus on her pacing.

"Are you alright?" she moved towards him, feet silent against the only frostless ground in the area, courtesy of their small fire.

"Just cold and thinking"

"Thinking about what?" she came to stop in front of him, shorter than him, being a women it was no shock. Well it was no shock to the male warden when anybody was shorter than him. He had been tall as a lad and that had continued on into his adult life.

"About being cold" at her amused look he shrugged "You know me contemplating the infinite of the world and all of the philosophical things about it...and well you know lampposts in winter" he beamed and her snort laughter was followed by his own.

"Really Alistair" she snorted, throwing up her hands in mock astonishment before she immediately returned to rubbing her appendages together, the leather gloves only providing so much warmth. The air was frigid to say in the least "I feel like my fingers are frozen" she protested lightly. She ran her tongue over her mouth in a futile attempt to moisten her lips, chapped from a day of frozen sunlight. Rubbing her hands together in attempts to warm them in sync with the stamping of her feet.  
"Needlessly cold" her companion muttered.

"I completely agree" the warden laughed dryly turning to look at the man beside her. She was greeted with honey brown eyes and a boyish grin. Alistair, a kind hearted boy, another warden. "This cold snap was certainly unexpected, it came out of nowhere"

"It can go back to nowhere. Fereldan doesn't want it" he scowled "there are no benefits to such cold" pausing in his monologue to stare at the woman beside him. She was stamping her booted feet and rubbing her gloved hands together in effort to keep the extremities warm. Her bright eyes focused at him, filled with questioning at his sudden silence.

"Alistair what's the matter"

"Here, um... move your hands over here" turning his own hands palm up he beckoned for her to place hers inside of his. 'Wow the fire must have gotten hotter...can fires just change temperatures?' When she had he began to rub them between his own, the friction between the pairs of hands starting quickly. Bringing their hands to his mouth he breathed onto them.

"You are a saint Alistair" she groaned as her hands began to warm "I seriously thought that my hands were going to fall off they were getting so cold" she nodded moving closer to him. "You sir are my most favorite person in the world right now"

"That wouldn’t be so good now would it. How would you feed yourself, the rest of us might get to eat something" he chuckled.

"Hey!" she gasped aiming a kick at his shin.

"Hey, Hey now" he laughed moving out of her way quickly "Don't hurt the gallant knight who is keeping your hands warm" he smiled as she scowled up at him. The female warden licked her lips in effort to stop them from cracking. The cold was not kind to anyone's skin and bleeding lips were quiet uncomfortable. Leilanna normally kept a jar of Orlisin lip balm on her, but it had been so long since they had seen a functioning market that they had run out of their saving grace.

"Forgive me your Majesty" she drawled

"See there now was that so hard?"

"Actually it was brutal, I feel like I need to gargle with some of Oghren's whiskey"

"Hey that hurts! Ouch, right in the gut lady!"

" I am so sorry!" she rolled her eyes "What can I ever do to make it better?"

"uh..." Alistair stopped 'come on Alistair! You’re a grey warden! Plus its not the first time!' he smirked, hoping it was a cool looking smirk "You could always kiss it and make it better."

"Alistair" she looked at him, mild shock across her features.

"Well y-you don't have to. I was just joking-I-!" he fumbled, horrified. What did he just say!

"wow I am impressed chantry boy" she laughed, using Zevran's nickname for the tall blond male. He had already been colored red by the glare of the fire but now he was practically glowing. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had seen him dunk full into the river and scrub off completely she would have been worried that it was blood that was covering his ears.

"Well I guess since I am the one that did the damage it would be quite appropriate for me to do everything in my power to make it right, I am a lady after all. That’s what you called me was it not?" by this time Alistair had come to a complete stop.

"Well that's good to know" he laughed. His laughter died as he noticed her lips once more. "Hey can I help you more?" He was proud at the lack of shake inside his voice.  
"And how would you do that Sir? I thought that I was the one who was supposed to be doing the helping now" her response came quick, coated with amusement. The spark in her eyes was one of familiar suggestiveness.

"Ah I was trained as a Templar remember? And I don’t think that my task is quiet over yet" he murmured sliding his thumbs along her jaw line "We were expected to complete our jobs to the fullest extent, standards set high" with an exhale he bumped his noise against the female wardens in a sign of affection.

"Templars are so restrictive though my dear warden" she breathed, trembling.

"Ah, yes but there's the loop-hole. Warden" a deep voice dropped octaves “As a warden I am unbound" lips met lips in chaste movements. Both mouths cold, chapped, trembling with buckled down need.

"Alistair" she breathed.

"You talk too much sometimes love" he murmured pressing small kisses once more, the actions lengthening in time and energy. Large fingers gripped along her face, to shoulders and that’s where they split ways. Large hands moving over a feminine crafted body, searching and feeling, finger pads and knuckles familiar with the body that lay beneath the armor. Small feminine fingers found their way along the prince’s hairline, kneading deep into neck muscles, resulting in a deep moan of appreciation. Small noises of encouragement prompted the warden on as the small hands moved lower, working out knots and kinks that developed after long travel and battle.

“Oy, you’re making it hard to concentrate” he grunted, pulling her flush against him, his own mouth sliding along her jaw. 

“Now who is the one doing all the talking?” she gasped, fingers pausing momentarily as she herself gathered her wits. 

A deep throb of need pulsated between the pair, familiar and only in the last few weeks had it been answered, however once it had been answered the need arose more often than not. Arms circling around the bastard prince’s neck as well as weight shifting backwards alerted the man that unless actions stopped quickly everything would escalate into things that required much more than the privacy they currently had. Thoughts of rational nature became weaker as the pair found themselves no longer standing but sinking slowly towards the ground. “We need to stop” Alistair grunted, grabbing the small hand that had found its way to the buckles of his armor. 

“What? What have I-“

“Nothing! Nothing it’s just” he coughed “We are outside and its cold and well anybody can-“

“Oh..!” Realization dawned in the women’s eyes. Taking his hands she allowed Alistair to pull her to her feet as she laughed. “Well it’s time for shift change though right?” she smiled wickedly, the grin only growing wider as her response was a flaming red face. “Then I can go wake up Oghren” with that the warden moved towards a tent that rumbled with loud snores littered with rude statements and gruff remarks. A smirk tugged at the corner of the ex-templars mouth.

“I really don’t mind the cold that much anymore”


End file.
